


Disrespect

by MSpataro210



Series: Season 12 Inspired [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x23, Angst, Confessions, Deals, Death, Feels, M/M, Resurrection, Sacrifice, Sad Castiel, Sad Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSpataro210/pseuds/MSpataro210
Summary: Dean's in a very vulnerable place after the last few minutes of the season 12 finale.  Of course someone would want to take advantage of that.





	Disrespect

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> So, that finale...
> 
> Until Misha himself tells me we aren't seeing Castiel anymore than I will not entertain the thought that he is dead.
> 
> Instead, here's one of the many possible ways to bring him, as well as others, back.
> 
> Enjoy!

            The glow is burned into his eyes. Castiel’s body flashing with the last of his grace, flickering like a bulb until it finally runs out of juice. Dean keeps one hand running across the ground, where his wings are traced into the dirt. The other plays with Castiel’s limp hand.

            “You stupid… _selfish_ … son of a _bitch_.”

            He looks up at where the tear once was. Expecting, at any moment, for it to reappear. For his mom to come through, alive and well, ready to take him up in his arms. To whisper into his ear how everything is going to be all right even though it’s far from it.

            Dean looks back down at Cas.

            “Why’d you have to run through the portal?”

            He squeezes tight on Castiel’s fingers, tears pooling at his eyes.

            “Why’d you have to _leave_ me?”

            In his mind, because it couldn’t possibly be true, he hears Castiel’s voice. Hears the gruff, rumbling melody explain that he was doing what he always does. Fighting for humanity… for him.

            “Why couldn’t you understand? …I never wanted someone to protect me.”

            “All my life, that’s what I’ve been. A protector. And I’m fine with that – it’s what I’m good at. Hell, I’m great at it.” A choked laugh, a watery sob. “I never wanted someone to fight my battles _for_ me. I wanted someone to fight _with_. I got Sammy but… you were never like Sammy. Were never a brother.”

            Dean takes his hand from the ground and moves towards Castiel’s face, brushing shaking fingers across the cold skin.

            “And I think you knew that. Knew what I was always afraid to say… or to say _back_ to you. I’ve never done what I should have… and I treated you wrong so many times. And yet… you _stayed_. You stayed through it all. Cas, you are the… _were_ the best friend I ever had. Hell, you were more than that Cas. You… I… I love you.”

            “ _I love you.”_

            Another echo in his mind – he knows because Cas’s lips don’t move. Not anymore.

            “God, Cas, I’d do anything to have you back. Crowley’s dead, Mom is – she’s as good as dead. And I hope it’s as quick a death as she deserves. And you… you are… I just want my family back.”

            “ _Do you?”_

            Dean startles. He turns towards the house, where a young, blond man walks down the back steps. His eyes glow amber, and his cocky smile is a mirror image to Lucifer’s.

            “You?”

            “Me…” Jack says, giggling, “And here I thought _I_ was only born moments ago.”

            “Exactly,” Dean whispers, “shouldn’t you be… be a…”

            “A what? A baby?” Jack cries, mimicking a regular infant. He stops and the smile falls. “You think all this power would be _content_ wasting away in such an itty, bitty space? I’ve got things to do, people to maim and what not… but…”

            “But?”

            “I have an offer.”

            Jack is right across from him now, standing over Castiel’s body. He stares down at it with a cold, calculating stare. A smile unfurls across his face yet again.

            There’s rushed pounding, and suddenly Sam is bursting through the door.

            “Dean, whatever he says, don’t-“

            “Enough.”

            Jack snaps his fingers, and Sam flies to the side, limbs like a rag doll. Dean stands, about to rush to him, when Jack stops him.

            “He’s alive,” Jack says, “but an unnecessary third party to our conversation.”

            “Our deal.”

            “Our…?”

            “Just say what you need to say,” Dean growls, “quickly.”

            “Crowley,” one finger, “Mary,” another finger, “And… Castiel.”

            “And what do you want from me?”

            “Nothing much,” Jack says, shrugging, looking away, “All I’d want is your… _soul_.”

            The laugh strikes right through Dean’s core, but he doesn’t flinch. He looks down on the prone angel. Then he glances back at the open space behind him, where the rift once was, before looking back at Jack.

            “My soul?”

            “Well, not _just_ your soul,” Jack says, walking around Castiel’s body, “I’d want you, by my side. You’ll be my right hand man, leading my troops into the thick of battle. My shield to protect me from any threat dumb enough to take a strike at me.”

            Dean doesn’t waver.

            “And if I agree… you’ll bring them back? You’d bring them _all_ back?”

            Jack smiles. “What do I have to gain by reneging?”

            Sam stirs from his place. He pulls himself up, staggering, towards Dean and Jack.

            “Dean!” he shouts, “Think of Mom! Of Cas! Would they want you to do this?”

            Dean looks back down at Cas, and bends down to run a hand through his hair. He leans down and places a kiss on Castiel’s blue lips. Dean squeezes Cas’s hand one last time, and stands.

            “Kid,” Dean says, “you’ve got yourself a deal.”

            “ _NO!”_

            “Perfect.”

            Jack’s eyes glow amber and he grips at Dean’s awaiting hand. Sam tries to make it to them in time, but the large flash of light blows him back. When he regains his senses, Dean and Jack are gone.

            Crowley is standing, wide-eyed and cursing.

            Mary is there, hands around her waist and looking everywhere.

            Castiel is on the ground, _alive_.

            “Sam!” Crowley is the first to speak, “What the bloody hell happened?”

            “J-Jack,” Sam starts, shaking, “He was-he came out… _old._ ”

            “Old?”

            “Walking, talking, hell, he could probably order at any bar,” Sam continues, getting hysterical, “I found him in his room, huddled in the corner. He tried to get in my head, strike a deal with me but I turned him down.”

            “And Dean?” Mary asks.

            Sam looks away, jaw tight.

            “No.”

            They all turn to Castiel. He struggles to get up. “Dean wouldn’t… not even if we… if _I_ …”

            He slips and falls onto his knees, eyes tearing up.

            “Cas,” Sam says, moving towards the angel, “He… he did. Seeing you… I don’t think he could take it.”

            “Damn you, Dean,” Cas whispers, shaking, “Why couldn’t you let me die? Let us save the world, sacrifice ourselves? Only to disrespect our wishes.”

            Castiel’s sob cuts through the thick of the night, as the group looks around each other, wondering what to do next.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, only one of many possible ways that the writers are free to take. Especially because they can make up any bullshit and we'd buy right into it.
> 
> Drop a kudos or a comment if you saw something you liked, loved the whole thing, or just want to vent about that finale!


End file.
